Текст книги "Walk Through Fire"

Автор книги: Kristen Ashley

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Текущая страница: 28 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

I couldn’t help it that time.

I stared at her.

God, she honestly was this cool.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “And Thanksgivin’ is comin’ up and we agreed I got the girls this year ’cause you get ’em most of the time but Millie’s kickass pad doesn’t have a dining room. So now, we can all come to your place.”

“Done,” Deb decreed. “Mom’ll love it. She told me to say hi, by the way.”

“Hi back,” Logan muttered, tipping his head to the side and taking another massive bite out of taco. As he did this, he must have caught sight of my tray and my lack of interest in it because his eyes came to me, and through a mouthful of taco, he asked, “Babe, why aren’t you eating?”

“I will when I quit freaking out,” I answered.

He straightened his head, swallowed, and drew his brows together. “Freakin’ out about what?”

“I... you...” I looked to Deb and announced, “You’re very cool.”

She smiled but didn’t say anything because Logan did.

“Told you she was.”

I looked to him. “I know you did but you didn’t say she was cool.”

“Not sure how I can say she’s cool when I’m sayin’ she’s cool, which means Deb’s cool,” Logan returned.

“Cool is not cool,” I replied.

“Beautiful, also told you she was a decent woman who wants me happy. So how you can’t get that her cool is cool I have no clue.”

I quickly looked to Deb and stated, “No offense,” before looking back to Logan and stating, “Women don’t work that way. Rarely are we that cool.”

“Jesus, that’s fuckin’ ridiculous,” Logan returned.

I opened my mouth to retort, not knowing what I intended to stay, just knowing it would likely be heated, but I didn’t say it because I heard Deb snort prior to busting into laughter.

Logan and I looked her way.

“I get you,” she said to me through her amusement. “And I get you,” she said to Logan, tamped down the mirth, and went on, “And I just realized something. You asked what would make me happy, High, and I’m good. I’m happy. But when I answered you, I didn’t know I’d get more of that happy knowing you’d finally got yours.”

“And there it is!” I declared, pointing my still loaded with unhealthy salad fork at her. “More cool.”

She burst into laughter again but this time did it while Logan chuckled.

I belatedly stuck my salad in my mouth and chewed.

When I was done chewing, I also had pulled myself together.

“I don’t know if Low’s told you this, but I’m a party planner so whatever you need for birthdays and such, I’m your go-to girl. Family discount. Meaning free,” I said to Deb.

“Perfect,” she replied.

“And just to say, I’m attempting a new recipe on Friday night. I haven’t decided what yet but whatever it is, it’s gonna be awesome. When you drop off the girls, you should consider staying.”

“Got no plans,” she replied. “I’d love to.”

I grinned, then noted, “Your handbag is the bomb.”

“Stella McCartney,” she told me.

I stabbed salad, smiling at her. “I pegged that. Saks?”

“Neiman’s.”

“This season?” I asked.

“Yep,” she answered.

I turned my attention to my salad, murmuring, “Quick trip to the mall before going back to work.”

“If you do, there was an Alexander McQueen clutch, black, skull clasp, rhinestones for eyes. I have absolutely no reason to own it but since I saw it I can’t get it off my mind. I’ll give you my number. If it’s still there, text me. I’ll swing by this weekend.”

“I’ll text,” I told her, then asked, “You want me to put it on hold?”

“That’d be great.”

“Now, I want someone to drill a bullet in my gut,” Logan groused.

Both Deb and I looked to Logan. He looked mildly annoyed at our lapsing into girl talk and less mildly bored as he shoved an entire piece of buttered corn bread in his mouth.

At that, it was my turn to burst out laughing.

And I was tickled pink when Deb laughed with me.

*  *  *

“Babe!” Logan bellowed.

I moved to the door of the laundry room, which was perhaps five feet from where I’d been while in the laundry room, and when I stopped I was perhaps three feet from where Logan stood at the back door, bellowing.

“I’m right here,” I told him.

He turned to me. “You hear my bike in the drive?”

“Yes,” I replied. “But I was separating colors.”

“You greet me,” he declared.

“I...” I shook my head. “Sorry?”

“I come home, you greet me. Since we been back, I come home, you’re waitin’,” he stated.

This was true. If I heard his bike or truck, I was often waiting in the kitchen, close to the back door. But if not, I was in eyesight and my attention was on him coming in said back door and as soon as I could, I made my way there.

“I’d never been separating laundry when you got home,” I explained.

“Millie, I come home, you greet me.”

These words were firm.

These words were a demand.

“You’re being bossy.”

My words were a warning.

“I come home, you greet me,” he repeated.

“The annoying kind,” I went on.

“I get home, babe, you greet me.”

I stiffened.

Because I got it.

Then I walked the three feet separating us as I said quietly, “I’m right here, Snooks. In the laundry room, doing our laundry.”

He reached to me, one arm around me pulling me closer, one hand sifting his fingers into the side of my hair.

In return, I slid my arms around his middle.

We held each other for a few beats before he spoke.

“Maybe never get used to havin’ you back,” he said. “Maybe never get used to comin’ home to you again. Like it when your eyes are to the door, tellin’ me you’re glad I’m home. Maybe won’t need that forever. Just sayin’, I need it now.”

And I needed to hang on. Hang on to the words Kellie told me. Hang on to rejoicing in the now. Doing that and not sliding into getting stuck on remembering all we’d lost and how that affected both of us.

“Then I’ll give it to you,” I told him.

“Thanks, beautiful,” he replied, bending his neck to give me a swift kiss before he let me go to shrug off his cut.

“You want a beer?” I asked.

“Yup,” he answered.

I went to the fridge.

When I’d popped his beer, I saw him at the kitchen island.

“Got your purse,” he said, his eyes coming to me.

The purse, the same one Deb had at lunch but mine electric blue, was on the island.

I grinned at him and brought his beer to him.

“Yup,” I answered.

He took the beer, then tapped the other things on the island.

“What’s this shit?” he asked.

I looked down at the plethora of gift cards I’d also bought at the mall. It wasn’t the plastic version of a shopping spree to end all shopping sprees, but it did herald fun.

“Gift cards,” I told him.

“Know that,” he said, dropping his beer after taking a pull. “For who? You got someone’s birthday comin’ up?”

“No. I have two tweenie girls coming to spend the weekend at my house so I have two attempts at bribery, this in hopes of using it to pave the way to loving me, even if it’s for a moment and all based on materialism.”

His head jerked to the side. “You’re givin’ that shit to my girls?”

“I would have asked before I got them but they’re gift cards. They don’t expire. If you think it’s a bad idea, I can put them in their Christmas stockings or something.”

He looked down to the cards.

As he did, I tried to decide if I wanted a beer or a glass of wine.

He looked to me.

Then he smiled.

“Zadie’s gonna love that shit,” he said.

I smiled back.

“Cleo’s gonna like it too,” he continued.

I decided against beer and wine and instead getting a dose of Logan.

So I leaned into him, giving him a lot of my weight.

He rounded me with the arm that didn’t have a hand holding a beer.

“They’re gonna love you,” he told me.

I wanted that. I wanted that for me.

But more, I wanted it for him.

“Yeah,” I replied.

His arm gave me a squeeze. “Can’t help but happen, baby.”

I gave him more of my weight.

“Love you, Snooks,” I whispered.

“Back at ya,” he replied. Then he lifted his beer, took another tug, and looked down at me. “Now, what you gonna feed your man?”

“Hamburgers,” I told him, pulling away. “But I need to get a load of laundry in. I don’t wanna be doing it while the girls are here.”

“I’ll pull out your fryer,” he said, putting the beer on the island and moving to the cupboard that held many of my countertop appliances.

“The Foreman, Low. We’re not gonna fry hamburgers. Yeesh,” I said, moving to the laundry room.

“But we are gonna fry tots,” he returned.

“We can bake those,” I told the laundry room as I entered it.

“We could. And they’ll suck. So we’ll fry,” he called to me.

“I don’t know if we have canola oil,” I semi-yelled, bending over the hampers.

“Woman, who goes to the store?” he semi-yelled back.

“Oh, right,” I kept semi-yelling.

I heard him chuckle.

Then I heard a cupboard door close.

I knew my lips were turned up when I shoved a load of lights into the washer.

And this was not because fried tater tots rocked.

Not at all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Worth It

Millie

THAT FRIDAY EVENING, Logan opened the door for Deb and the girls while I continued my efforts at preparing our dinner.

I still watched as Cleo came in, carrying a small pink overnight bag, smiling and saying, “Daddy,” before she gave him a big hug.

Zadie came in next, rolling her own small purple overnight bag (with big daisies on it), and Logan got his smile and hug from her as Cleo came my way.

“Hey, Millie,” she greeted.

“Hey, sweetie,” I replied, giving her my own smile.

Then she got even closer and I was uncertain for a moment as she did.

I lost my uncertainty when she wrapped her arms around my waist for a quick, timid hug before she jumped back and ducked her head.

It went so fast, I didn’t have the chance to touch her.

But I wasn’t going to let that moment slide.

“Good to see you again, beautiful girl,” I said softly.

She looked up at me from under her lashes and even with her lips pressed together, they were still curled up.

I winked at her.

“Oh my God, you got it!” Deb cried.

I turned my attention her way and saw her walking in, going straight to the countertop where my electric blue Stella bag was.

“Totally,” I told her, and went on, “I just hired a new member of staff. I need to be buying Stella bags like I need a hole in the head. But I couldn’t resist.”

Deb grinned at me. “I’m jealous. You went electric blue. I’m not adventurous like that. But I wish I was because it’s phenomenal.”

I grinned back and commented on the color she chose. “Black is nothing to sneeze at, sister.”

“Too true,” she replied, then glanced around before casting her eyes back to me. “You have a gorgeous home, Millie.”

I was still grinning when I returned, “Thanks, babe.”

“What’s that smell?”

This came from Zadie and it wasn’t snotty. It also wasn’t simply curious either.

What it was was indication that she still wasn’t there with me.

However, she did seem to be alert and this alertness centered around her mother and me.

“And hello, Millie, how have you been?” Deb replied as a rebuke.

Zadie gave her mother a look that also wasn’t snotty but it wasn’t sweet. She then gave me the same look.

“Hello, Millie,” she said by rote.

“Hey there, Zadie,” I replied warmly, giving her a big smile.

“Lettuce wraps,” Logan declared, and everyone looked to him. He had the girls’ bags in his hands and was on the move toward the living room. “I’m thinkin’ of ordering a pizza,” he went on.

“I like pizza,” Zadie declared.

“You’re eating lettuce wraps,” Deb returned.

“Yeah, you are,” Logan confirmed. “But before you do that, want my two girls followin’ me. Gonna show you where you’re sleepin’.”

“When I get back, Millie, I’ll help,” Cleo called as she followed her dad.

Of course she would.

“I’d love that, Cleo,” I replied.

“And, Mom!” Cleo cried, still walking. “Wait ’til you meet Millie’s cats!”

Zadie followed her sister, glaring daggers into her back.

Nope, she totally wasn’t there with me or any of this.

Deb got close and said low, “Just so you know, the mini-attitude Zadie is throwing isn’t all about you. I gave it to her in the car about how she’s going to handle this weekend. She isn’t a big fan of being told what to do. So she’s not super happy with me.”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, turning my attention back to carefully separating leaves of lettuce without tearing them. “Seems I’m a pain in the ass for Zadie on a variety of fronts.”

Deb got even closer and I turned my attention from the lettuce to her. “Don’t think this is you, Millie. It’s not. I actually think this is good. It’s a life lesson she needs to learn. And it’s something High needs to get too. It’s not gonna be easy on any of us. But it’s been needing to happen a long time. You’re just the catalyst for it.”

“Not doing cartwheels about that,” I shared. “But I understand what you’re saying and hope it works out for everyone in the end. Though, I have to tell you, I bought them both a few gift cards. We’re gonna go shopping this weekend.” Her expression didn’t change, in other words, I couldn’t read it, so I went on to admit, “It’s transparent bribery. But I’m not above doing anything to get past this hitch in the road. Unless, of course, you don’t like that idea. Then they’ll be stocking stuffers. Logan’s okay with it but you need to be too.”

“I don’t mind,” she replied. “Unless you do it every time you get them.” Her eyes danced. “If you do, they’ll never wanna come back to me.”

My voice was filled with humor when I said, “I doubt that.”

She looked down to the lettuce, then back to me and again her voice was low when she said, “You’re pretty cool, too, you know?”

I’d been cool, once, back in the day, in my cutoffs and halter tops.

I didn’t think I was cool now, especially since I just admitted to my plans to attempt to bribe her daughters for their love (or at least like).

“I am?” I asked.

“What are you putting in those?” She tipped her head to the lettuce.

“Well, I have this chili peanut chicken thing happening,” I answered. “And then I’m searing some ahi tuna with some sesame seeds, serving it with julienne cucumbers, and a crème fraîche tartar sauce. Low was not pleased with the grocery list, seeing as he had to go to three stores, including LeLane’s, which isn’t his scene, and what was on the list he wasn’t real fired up about. But he got us covered.”

“You eat lettuce wraps often?” she asked.

“No,” I told her. “Never. Not even at P.F. Chang’s. In fact, it’s a crapshoot this stuff is gonna taste good at all.”

“And that’s what’s cool,” she returned. “Because I know you’re doing that for me and I appreciate it. The girls will notice and they’ll appreciate it, even Zadie. I haven’t had pizza in seven years so I’m not even sure my body can process pizza. Ahi tuna...” she smiled, “definitely.”

“I wish I could say that I was sacrificing for my coolness,” I replied. “But I totally love ahi and if that peanut chicken is even a little close to as good as it looks in its picture on the Internet, even Logan won’t complain.”

“Clee-Clee loves ahi and Zade gets chicken satay with peanut sauce any time she’s got her shot, so if you can please High, you’ve got us all covered.”

“Really?” I asked, shocked I’d hit the nail so firmly on the head... and did it with lettuce wraps.

“Really,” she answered.

“Mom! Look!” Cleo cried, walking in, snuggling Poem. “This is Millie’s girl. Poem. Chief ran under the couch but I’ll get him so you can meet him next.”

“Wow!” Deb cried back, moving to her daughter. “She’s so cute.”

“I hope they sleep with us,” Cleo murmured.

They might. If they could make it up on the bed, something they had yet to master.

I didn’t share that with Cleo. I turned to Zadie.

“You want a drink, Zadie?”

She shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “Whatev—” she started, but must have felt her mother’s and father’s attention go to her because she quickly finished, “Sure.”

“I’ll get it,” Logan stated, and looked to his ex. “Deb? Wine?”

“I’ll have a glass with dinner,” she answered, then came back to me. “Now, Millie, what can the girls and I do to help?”

“First you can tell me if you’re picking up that McQueen tomorrow,” I replied. “Then you can julienne cucumbers and the girls can set the bar.”

“McQueen, affirmative,” she told me.

“Right on!” I declared on an excited sister’s-gonna-get-a-fab-bag smile.

Deb, the sister who was going to get a fab bag, smiled back and hers was bigger for obvious reasons. “Now, do you have something to julienne, or am I gonna need to perform miracles with a knife?”

“Gadget drawer to your left,” I told her, delighted the thingamabob I’d bought probably six years ago to do fantastic things with vegetables was going to get its first use.

“Gotcha,” she muttered, and moved to the drawer.

Before I turned back to my lettuce, I looked to Zadie. She had a can of pop in her hand and was standing by her father, who had his head in the fridge. She was also watching her mom.

When she felt my eyes, she looked to me.

I tipped my head to the side and curved my lips up.

She looked away and took a sip of pop.

I sighed.

“Do you have placemats?” Cleo asked.

“Drawer across the way, sweetie,” I answered.

“On it!” she cried, and skipped across the kitchen.

I watched her doing this thinking she was totally freaking cute.

I also watched her doing this thinking that I liked how she seemed to be getting comfortable in my space.

So I watched her doing this feeling happy.

Cleo, good.

Deb, good.

Logan, always good.

Zadie, no change.

Not brilliant.

But I’d take it, work on it...

And hope.

*  *  *

Lying in bed, tangled up with Logan that night after the girls settled in the guestroom and we gave them time to drift off before we went to bed, I murmured, “I think that went okay.”

He gave me a squeeze. “Know it did. Do not know how you pulled off good-tastin’ lettuce wraps, but you nailed it.”

Being a man, he was talking about food.

I was talking about our modern-day family dinner.

I decided not to point that out.

I should have known better. Logan knew exactly what I was talking about.

He shared this when I heard his head move on the pillow so he could say into the top of my hair, “Tomorrow, you give ’em their cards and we’ll take ’em shoppin’. They’re both gonna like that and even Zadie’s gonna have to melt a little ’cause I know she’s really gonna like that. And I’ll endure the mall ’cause I’ll have three happy girls on my hands.” He gave me another squeeze. “So it’s all gonna be good, beautiful.”

I tipped my head back to catch his eyes in the dark. “If the mall doesn’t work, I’m gonna need more ammunition. Her favorite foods. Her favorite desserts. Television shows. Movies. Boy bands.” I looked to his shadowy chin. “Actually, I need that intel on both girls just because.”

“Babe,” Logan called my attention back to him. When he got it, he carried on, “This is not an exercise in spoilin’ Zadie more than she already is. This is an exercise in breakin’ her of that shit.”

“I know, but—”

“I hear you. I get you. You do need to know that about them. So ask ’em. But I’m lettin’ this bribery scheme of yours go because you wanna do that for them and I want them to see you are how you are. Generous and a woman with a big heart. But from here on in, special occasions only. They gotta get that with me and me bein’ with you, life is just life. Hear?”

I nodded.

He bent in and touched his mouth to mine.

When he pulled away, he grumbled, “Gonna be a long fuckin’ weekend, girls here, which means not bein’ able to do you.”

He was right.

I snuggled into him, rubbing my face in his throat, mumbling, “Mmm.”

“Drop the girls at school, come back, end that shit,” he went on. “Be prepared to hit your office late on Monday, Millie.”

Something to look forward to.

Therefore my repeated, “Mmm,” had a different tone.

Tangled up in me, Logan slid his hand up my spine to entwine his fingers in my hair.

“Love you, baby,” he whispered into the dark.

I lay in his arms, feeling his solid warmth, his strength, the truth of those words wrapped all around me and I wondered how I could be so lucky.

I’d had it all, let it go, and got it all back... and more.

That shit was impossible.

But there it was, in my arms, in my bed, in my house.

Oh yes.

I knew Kellie had been right when she’d laid it out.

But hearing those words, feeling them, I knew Kellie was right.

I’d gone through a rough patch. It was my doing. It lasted a long time.

But now it was over.

“Back at ya,” I whispered.

Logan kissed the top of my head and settled in.

I felt him do it and I fought sleep after he did it, wanting to remain awake and feel all he was giving me even after his breath evened out and his body got heavy around mine.

I couldn’t fight sleep for long because I was right where I was supposed to be.

But I fell asleep on two thoughts.

Our lives might not be perfect.

But that didn’t mean I wasn’t perfectly happy.

*  *  *

“Babe, just got a call,” Logan announced the next morning as he walked into the living room.

I was in the kitchen preparing brioche French toast. I had two sleepy girls sitting at my bar, Cleo cuddling Chief, who wasn’t certain he wanted to be cuddled, Zadie noticeably, and lamentably, steering clear of both cats even though I could tell she didn’t want to.

I’d have to figure out a way to do something about that.

But in that moment, I was just pleased that neither seemed traumatized after having to spend a night under my roof with me.

It was now their father’s roof too.

Still.

“Yeah?” I asked Logan.

“Boys can do the grading and graveling tomorrow,” he told me, going to his girls and wrapping his arms around both, pulling them together and bending in to kiss the tops of their heads.

Cleo sleepily and happily cuddled into her dad.

To my surprise and delight, Zadie did the same.

I allowed myself to take in that awesomeness before I focused on Logan.

“On a Sunday?” I asked.

“Yep,” he answered, letting his girls go and moving around the bar toward me. “They get it done in the morning, we’ll go to the RV, pick it up, bring it back.”

“Works for me,” I muttered, dropping a slice of brioche into the egg mixture and turning it.

And it did work for me, Logan all moved in and settled. That totally worked for me.

“Today, Millie’s got a surprise for you.”

I knew this particular announcement from Logan was for the girls.

“Yeah?” Cleo asked as Logan got in my space.

“I’ll get on this. You give my babies the goodness,” he bossed me.

That was a boss I’d accept, so I didn’t object. Instead, I moved to the bar and opened the drawer where I’d stashed the gift cards.

I took them out and lined them up in front of the girls, all ten of them, five for each, side by side, saying, “Mini-shopping spree. Your dad has relented to taking us to the mall. We’ll have lunch there first and after we lay waste to the stores, maybe we’ll go to that place where you can buy frozen yogurt by the pound.”

I watched closely as Zadie stared in disbelief at the cards.

Cleo didn’t stare in disbelief.

She aimed shining eyes at me and exclaimed, “Seriously?”

I smiled at her. “Seriously.”

“But... Forever 21. And Claire’s. And Buckle. And H&M. And Urban Outfitters!” she exclaimed with glee.

Apparently, I’d picked the right ones.

I felt extreme relief but only lifted a shoulder. “It’s kind of a welcome to my house for your first sleepover type thing. A little celebration for an occasion that’s special to me. It’s also special to your dad. Just my way of saying I’m happy to have you here.”

“That’s so cool!” Cleo cried.

Zadie didn’t say anything.

So I found my mouth babbling, “And maybe, when we get home, we’ll do girlie stuff. You know. Give each other manicures and pedicures. We can stop by Target on the way back from the mall and pick up some fun colors.”

“I didn’t relent to that,” Logan muttered from his place at the stove.

“Oh my gosh! That’s so awesome!” Cleo yelled.

“It is,” Zadie said, and I looked to her. She wasn’t looking at me. She was nudging a Claire’s gift card with her finger.

“I’m glad you think so, darling,” I said carefully.

Her eyes came to me for the barest of moments before she looked back to the cards.

I was so focused on Zadie, I jumped when Logan got close, tossing an arm around my shoulders.

“My girls do girl crap all day, I pick the movie tonight,” he declared.

“Okay, Daddy,” Cleo immediately agreed.

Zadie’s head came up, her eyes going to her dad.

“Just as long as it’s not scary,” she stated, just like she was a part of the conversation, not pouty or demanding.

I pressed my lips together to hold back my cautious excitement because maybe I was getting somewhere.

“Would I scare my baby?” Logan asked.

“No,” Zadie answered.

“I like scary,” Cleo announced.

“That’s what I’m sayin’. You wouldn’t, but Clee-Clee would,” Zadie explained.

“You and me can have our scary nights when I get another TV in this joint,” Logan told his oldest. “That way, we do that, Zade and Millie can go watch somethin’ else in the bedroom.”

I was not putting a TV in the bedroom. It would be ugly, ruining the aesthetics. I knew this because I’d considered it and even looked for a media center with doors that closed the TV away in order to have a TV in my bedroom. Years of looking, I’d found nothing that would work.

So that was not going to happen.

However, Logan and I would have that conversation at a later date.

Right then, I looked up at Logan. “I actually DVR’ed Pitch Perfect and Easy A a while ago and I’ve been wanting to watch both of them for ages.”

“I love Pitch Perfect!” Cleo squealed.

“Jesus,” Logan muttered, frowning down at me.

“Of course,” I said hurriedly, “we can watch them another weekend.”

“Oh, Daddy, we so have to watch Pitch Perfect,” Zadie stated excitedly.

So excitedly, my eyes flew to her.

She was looking up at her dad, her eyes now shining, something I’d never seen.

Like her sister, the transformation was amazing.

She was a cute kid, a budding beauty, both impossible to miss.

But now, both the cuteness and the beauty shone from her like a beacon that was blinding.

Seeing it for the first time, I got why her father spoiled her. I, too, would do anything in my power to get that aimed at me on a regular basis.

It might not be good parenting.

But staring into that beam, I knew it would be near impossible to beat back the urge.

“It’s funny and so good,” she went on, “even you’ll like it.”

I hadn’t seen the movie yet.

Still, I knew a movie based on a capella groups dueling each other in college was not something Logan would ever like.

“That movie too old for you?” Logan asked.

“No,” Cleo answered.

“Totally no,” Zadie put in.

“Zade’s right, Daddy. You’re so gonna laugh. It’s really funny,” Cleo stated.

Logan let me go to move back to the stove, muttering, “So I gotta put up with the mall, nail polish smell, and I don’t even get to pick the movie.”

“Millie, Cleo, and me’ll make chicken, bacon mac ’n’ cheese,” Zadie bartered.

When she did, I went still.

She’d included me in that.

Me!

I didn’t know what chicken, bacon mac ’n’ cheese was. But I was so totally making it.

I fought back giggling like a lunatic and twirling in delight.

“Chicken, bacon mac’s the only thing worth watchin’ an asinine high school movie,” Logan murmured to the skillet.

“They’re in college, Daddy,” Cleo informed him.

“Chicken, bacon mac’s the only thing worth watchin’ an asinine college movie,” Logan murmured to the skillet.

Cleo giggled.

Zadie did too.

My heart got so light, it lightened everything about me to the point it was a wonder I wasn’t floating on air when I went to the pantry to get the syrup.

I had that out, plus the butter and plates, forks, and napkins on place mats before I went back to the stove to relieve Logan of his duties.

“Heat up your coffee, Snooks,” I said softly, pushing in to take the spatula from him. “And grab a stool. I’ll finish here.”

“Babe,” he replied.

I looked up at him.

It was then my heart stopped.

Because now, his eyes were shining. Shining and happy and relieved.

And I saw his girls got that from him, too, that look transforming his beauty into something breathtaking.

As I gazed up at him in wonder, he bent and touched his mouth to mine. It was a swift kiss. Light. There and gone.

But it was happy too.

He relinquished the spatula, grabbed my mug as well as his, and heated up both our coffees before he took a stool.

I served French toast. It was good French toast. But it was just French toast.

Still, I was going to remember that French toast for the rest of my life.

Because I ate it listening to Cleo babbling, Zadie joining her, and watching my man eat his surrounded by all his girls, looking straight down to his bones happy.

*  *  *

“Okay, so that went good,” I said to Logan, who was moving around me in the kitchen.

It was late evening. He was finishing up his last beer. I was cleaning my wineglass.

We were headed to bed.

The girls were already down.

Bribery apparently worked.

It worked so well that even when Pitch Perfect proved to be a tad bit too adult for Logan’s girls (as decreed by Logan, even though they’d both already seen it so he couldn’t put the kibosh on it) and he’d shared that unhappily, nothing came of this since we were still riding the wave of mall, yogurt by the pound, and girlie treat in-house mani-pedis.

Zadie may not have been about hugs and shouting endorsements of me from the top of her lungs, but she hadn’t done a single bratty thing all day. She’d even shyly, almost like it was against her will but she couldn’t stop it, asked my opinions on things she’d purchased.

And she’d listened to my answers.

As for Cleo, any barriers that may have remained between her and me had crumbled down. She saw her mom with me. She saw her father not happy to be at the mall shopping but definitely happy to be with his girls. And she appreciated all my efforts, and not just the gift cards.

The people she loved were settled and content and that was all Cleo Judd needed.

Therefore, she was open and talkative, friendly and familiar, and riding a near-teen-girl wave of joy at having a new top, earrings, bangles, hair stuff, and girl gizmos.

She was just a phenomenal kid. It was remarkable watching her be carefree after seeing her so often be careful about all around her.

I watched this falling in love with Cleo.

I knew Logan agreed with my assessment on the day when I felt his arms round me from behind.

He gave me his verbal agreement when he shoved his face in my neck and muttered, “Yeah.”

“You were wrong,” I told him, placing my glass on a spread kitchen towel by the sink.